


Wind

by nadia5803



Series: hamlet au by nadia [1]
Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadia5803/pseuds/nadia5803
Summary: Claudius discovers a new side of the boy he once knew.
Series: hamlet au by nadia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656937
Kudos: 3





	Wind

The wind can be so merciless.

Hamlet stood on the castle balcony, the wind whipping through his hair as he struggled to keep his footing in the fierce and bitter wind. The moon is a blurred arch behind the clouds. Each tree that frames the castle rustles at once with another hiss of the wind, and Hamlet closes his eyes. Closes them tight, praying, mumbling, keeping himself still. He just needed some air, but this air was fiercer than he hoped. He pulled his jacket around him, looking around nervously when a familiar voice broke through the wind.

“Hamlet? Come inside.”

He knows who it is but he whips around anyways. Claudius stood in the doorway, still modestly dressed despite his recent coronation. Docs, sweater, glass of wine in hand, that suave, confident mess that Hamlet formerly knew him as. The sharp and intelligent black sheep of the family, his head always in a book rather than in the web of noble politics.  
“Go away.”

“You’re going to get blown away if you don’t come in. Christ, it’s freezing,” Claudius mumbled, taking a swig of his drink as he approached Hamlet. “Please.” 

“Claudius. I don’t want to go back to the party.”

“I’m okay with that. Can you at least come inside?”

Hamlet shook his head, staring down at his shoes.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

“Hamlet, you can tell me anything. Anything at all.”

More silence. Hamlet hugged himself and let the wind sway him sideways. Claudius walked up to Hamlet, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Please come in. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”

“I won’t freeze to death. It’s not that cold.”

“It’s awfully windy,” Claudius murmured. Hamlet stirred and peeked over his shoulder at his uncle. Claudius offered a friendly smile at his nephew.

“Why don’t you just come in, and we can talk? Your mother’s awfully worried,” Claudius placed a hand on Hamlet’s shoulder, and felt a momentary dash of guilt when Hamlet flinched forward. “Sorry. Look, I just don’t want you waking up all sick tomorrow with a runny nose. Last thing you need right now. How about I get you into bed? I’ll make you a hot cup of tea, and you don’t have to talk to anyone for the rest of the evening. How about that?”

“Stop talking.”

“… Excuse me?”  
“I said…”

Hamlet paused, turning to glance at his uncle, blazing anger in his eyes.

“Stop talking.”

The poison in Hamlet’s voice was nothing like Claudius has heard from his bookish nephew. Of course, Hamlet had never been the happiest little boy. That much was fact. But those tiny moments they shared - ones where Hamlet showed his passions, confided his secrets, cried and sobbed into Claudius’ shoulders - none of those deep, dark parts of Hamlet had ever been submerged in such deep venom. It was new. And Claudius found himself taken aback. He took a step backwards, quiet, spinning the glass of wine in his hand. Hamlet turned, letting out a deep sigh, crossing his arms and letting the wind toss his hair.  
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

“I’m not a kid, don’t call me a kid.”

“You’re a teenager, Hamlet. That much constitutes as a child. A child…” Claudius’ was about to continue, but he knew better than to throw gasoline into the fire. A 17 year old, a child, could not rule. That they both knew, but Hamlet was able to fill in the blanks where Claudius stopped. It was a quiet few seconds, but Claudius could feel Hamlet’s rage palpitate as the realization came to him.

“How dare you?! You snake! I’m 17! And you! You are a tone-deaf, idiotic, dense adult!” Hamlet had yelled and screamed before, but never like this. Never so insubordinately. He stuck a defiant, pointed finger in Claudius’ face. “And you… you can’t do anything except get drunk and party. Blow away our lavish savings on alcohol and a stupid, stupid, stupid, invalid wedding! A wedding that should have never happened in the first place.”

Hamlet fumed, his face red with anger. Claudius looked down, guilty, his arms behind his back. Hamlet exhaled through his nose, seething as he stormed by.

“I hate you!” Hamlet’s black boots stomped right past Claudius as he flew inside, slamming the set of doors behind him like an angry black hurricane.  
This was not Hamlet. At least, not the Hamlet that Claudius knew so well. Not the reserved, bookish child who could spend hours talking passionately about his academia and his inhibitions, his experiments in love and his playful anecdotes about school. Claudius whacked his head with his hand. Just grief, he thought. He’s grieving. 

But the boy Claudius once knew so well was corrupted. His anger was palpable and nothing would be the same again for certain.

There was a ghost on his shoulder.

The wind wailed a mournful song as Claudius stood on the balcony, gazing up at the faint silhouette of the moon.


End file.
